


i'll be glad that i made it out (and sorry that it all went down like it did)

by starsofthesky (psyfi)



Series: Won't you stay with me, my darling (when this house don't feel like home?) [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dream Smp, Gen, Purpled Angst, and no one talks to you, honestly why would you stay in a world, i love big brother dream but he done messed up this one, mild graphic description of gore but like Extremely mild, my brain chooses side characters and decides to adopt them, this may become a series! depends on if people like it, where ur friends die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27600170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyfi/pseuds/starsofthesky
Summary: Purpled is exhausted, and after months of waiting, he finally leaves.But at least one person sees him off.
Relationships: Grayson | Purpled & Niki | Nihachu, No Romantic Relationship(s), shit nasty
Series: Won't you stay with me, my darling (when this house don't feel like home?) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031400
Comments: 11
Kudos: 218





	i'll be glad that i made it out (and sorry that it all went down like it did)

**Author's Note:**

> wooooo first fic for this fandom! i literally did this within the past two hours, so it's unbeta'ed, but i hope it's good! lemme know if i'd like me to continue this, there's a lot of aspects i think could be explored here! 
> 
> title: Motion Sickness by Phoebe Bridgers

It’s night when Purpled finally musters enough courage to leave his UFO, bag strapped to his back. The air is sharp and cold when it nips at his skin, and he shivers. Something squeezes his heart as he looks back up at what has served as his home faithfully, and he can’t tell if it’s grief or regret. 

Either way, he’d made up his mind, with hands shaking and legs knee deep in frigid water, lapping at him, trying to drag him down and drown him while he watches smoke trail into the sky, escaping from blackstone walls. He’d made up his mind in the blazing heat of the Nether, following Technoblade through the hellscape, curiosity driving him only to realize the pig hybrid was preparing for war. He’d made up his mind in the sunlight of the overworld, as he watched someone who used to be his friend take a rocket to the chest and collapse in a bloody heap inside a tiny box. 

He’d made up his mind long ago, it only took him awhile to realize it. 

The same wooden path he’s walked on so many times before feels different today, and he doesn’t really know why. It creaks and groans beneath his feet, worn but still sturdy. He wasn’t there when it happened, but he can almost see blood spill across it’s oaken surface, Tommy face down with an arrow between his ribs. 

Somewhere he hears a shout, and he quickens his footsteps. He’s not doing anything worth being guilty for, not yet at least, but he’d rather not explain himself to anyone. 

He doesn’t know if he’d have an answer. 

Purpled skirts the edge of Manberg, ignoring the bright festival banners that still adorn the plaza, with red dotted along the floor. He’s grown really tired of red, and as he picks his way through the suburbs, something tells him he’s not getting rid of it anytime soon. 

Niki’s bakery still has it’s lights on, the scent of fresh bread wafting from the doorway. He stops, contemplating, but the choice is taken from him when a zombie decides to announce its presence, and by the time he’s dispatched it Niki stands in the doorway, covered in flour and face slack with surprise. 

They stare, silent, before Niki catches sight of his bag, and something soft and broken enters her gaze. 

“You’re leaving...aren’t you?” 

Purpled’s at a loss for words, but he shakily nods, eyes downcast. Niki doesn’t seem to mind, and the silence lingers for a few moments before she steps forward a little more. 

“Before you go...do you want something to eat? And to take with you?” Her voice is soft, but Purpled doesn’t ever remember a time where it wasn’t soft. Granted, they haven’t interacted much, but that’s no one’s fault but his own. He’d leave the server for long stretches at a time, off to Hypixel to practice Bedwars, where no wars or fighting outside of the games were allowed and he could breathe easy for once, only to come back to half hearted waves and whispered plans behind closed doors. 

Ponk had discussed with him before, about how he felt disconnected from everything, and he and Callahan had both agreed. Being neutral was nice for safety reasons and everything, but as everyone gets drawn further and further into conflict, he finds no one has time anymore to just relax and joke with those not dedicated to the cause. The three of them had bonded as a result, and if the faraway look in Ponk’s eyes and restless fidgeting of Callahan were anything to go by, he bets they’re not far behind him. 

Funny that he’s the one that broke first. 

Wordlessly, he follows Niki inside the bakery, warmth encasing him. It may be the first time he’s been inside actually, seeing as he usually grows his own food. It’s nice...homey. It makes him mourn the time he could’ve spent here. 

Niki shuffles around the back a bit before setting down a plate of cookies and a few loaves of bread wrapped in cloth, and Purpled dregs up enough energy to give her a grin in appreciation. They don’t talk while he eats, but he watches as she sets more bread in the oven, then sets aside dough for proving, and he’s almost lulled into a sense of calm, but nerves spark along his spine too much for him to fully relax. 

Once he’s finished, he sighs, and Niki glances up from her work, humming a question. He thinks, and there’s so much he wants to say, but he settles on, “Do you think you guys will win?” 

He doesn’t say it harshly or anything, but Niki winces all the same, and he wishes he could take it back. 

“I...I don’t know.” She flips and kneads dough, eyes squinted in concertation, “but I have hope. Hope for L’manberg, and hope for my friends.” 

He nods. That’s more than he’s ever had at least. 

“Have you told Dream?” 

Purpled shakes his head. “No, there’s no point.” He hopes Niki doesn’t detect the undercurrent of fear that lies beneath his words because that’s truly why he hasn’t told the admin he’s leaving. He can’t trace when the man he’d seen as a brother had turned into someone he’d frozen in fear at, but he has an idea of when. Sometime between yelling for white flags and hearing whispers of explosives given by two scared teens who’d been too preoccupied on their bench to notice the suddenly pale one behind them. 

With no idea of how the masked man would react, Purpled had refrained, and simply hoped he wouldn’t care enough to come looking for him. Hoped that as he treks through unclaimed territory beyond the server that Dream doesn’t track him down, axe in hand.

Chewing his lips in thought, Purpled finally swings his bag around, opening up his inventory and sifting through it before grabbing what he wants with a resolute acceptance. 

The netherite armor and sword clanks and clatters as he sets it on the counter, and Niki looks up, alarmed, before her eyes widen.  
“Purpled, you don’t need to do that-” 

“I do.” He shrugs. “I never stepped in to help before, and I don’t need it where I’m going.” 

Nevermind that he doesn’t know where he’s going, but the armor is mostly for combat, and it otherwise just slows him down. He’s used to quick fights, running and dodging and leaping through the air before cleaving his sword through his opponent before moving onto the next. 

“Besides, you need it more than I do.” Because even if he doesn’t know Niki that well, he knows that she will fight with everything she has in her, no matter what gear she has. 

“Oh Purpled.” She sighs, and before he can process it, she’s got him wrapped up in her arms, and he’s suddenly fighting back tears, a lump lodged in his throat as he cherishes what he thinks is his first hug in months. Niki rocks back and forth, patting his back and gently shushing him as he shudders. 

They stay like that for a few minutes, before the shaking subsides and she’s leaning back, hands placed gently on his shoulders, and he could cry again just from the look in her eyes. 

“You are always, _always,_ welcome back here, okay?” 

Purpled knows she means the bakery, with its ovens and vines and flour dusted across every surface, not the Dream SMP or Manberg. He can come back here, to this cave made into something truly wonderful, and he nods, tucking it away close to his heart. 

Niki steps back, for a final time, before handing him the loaves, giving his shoulder one more squeeze. He tucks the bread away, and heads towards the door, heart heavy, but lighter than it’s been in ages. 

With one foot out the door, he turns back, and Niki is crying, soft and silent. 

“Please stay safe Purpled.” 

He’s not lying when he says, “I’ll try my best.” 

The air is just as cold as before when he steps back outside, but the stars seem brighter, and Purpled makes the last-minute decision to head for the docks, wood already in hand. 

The wind whistles through the tall, looming structures above him, barren of anything. He wonders what Tubbo planned to build, but pushes it aside. 

Not like Tubbo can even enter these lands anymore anyway. 

The water crashes against the pier, hungry and wanting. He ignores it, quickly crafting a boat, and after a beat, a fishing rod for good measure. All around, the world is alive with noise, yet it’s still silent, pushing down on his mind like a shroud. 

He sets the boat in the water, and after securing his bag at the bottom, steps aboard. It rocks with the motion, but he’s already pushed off from the dock, oars hard at work as he chops through the waves. 

The light of the moon guides him as he glides further and further away from the mainland, and soon enough, he knows the message of him leaving the server will enter the world chat. He remembers joking around with Tommy and Tubbo in the early days, jumping back and forth across the border, giggling their heads off the entire time as they spammed the chat, before Dream had teleported to them and told them to knock it off, a forced frown on his face that slowly turned into a grin as he ruffled Purpled’s hair and quipped at an indignant Tommy. 

Now, the only people who are awake to see his departure message is a remorseful baker, a madman pacing in a ravine, and an uncaring admin who brushes the needling at his soul to the side, too focused on planning a country’s downfall to feel the finality of the action. 

_[Purpled has left the game.]_


End file.
